


They Sat. They Watched.

by peacemonger98



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Depression, Don't worry there's a happy ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, potentially triggering??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 07:08:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6744460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peacemonger98/pseuds/peacemonger98
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Facts. He dealt in facts. He kept track of life not in emotions, not anymore, but in facts. When he couldn't describe how he felt, he described instead what he did. <em>I walk, I eat, I breathe, sleep and drink water and I try not to think.</em> This was easier than emotions. Things only became more tangled then.</p>
            </blockquote>





	They Sat. They Watched.

**Author's Note:**

> like in the tags, some of the stuff mentioned in here could bring some stuff up if one is depressed or suicidal or whatnot. I just took some feelings and typed them up.

There he was. On the edge of the sea. On the crest of a hill on his bike.

There he was. On the precipice of disaster. A second away from leaping into the water. From jerking the handlebars.

There he was. Surrounded by people. Alone. A shell.

He didn't want to die. He didn't have the active desire to jump into the water or turn the bars. But he thought about it.

Every time he rode. He went to the store for his mom. _What if I turned off this bridge?_ His grip would tighten. _What if I turned a second early?_ White knuckled fingers held the handlebars. He didn't want to. But what if he did?

He stood on the edge of the sea wall, breathing in the misty air. Here, he could think. He could be factual without the distracting sounds of a household. Even locked in a room alone the silence was too loud. With the chilly spring breeze smelling of salt and uneven rocky paths to walk over, he'd found a home.

Facts. He dealt in facts. He kept track of life not in emotions, not anymore, but in facts. When he couldn't describe how he felt, he described instead what he did. _I walk, I eat, I breathe, sleep and drink water and I try not to think._ This was easier than emotions. Things only became more tangled then.

So, he didn't think. He studied and internalized and memorized and did what needed to be done to sustain. He walked down by the ocean, rain or sun, and didn't think. He breathed and tried to be the vast blue majestic sea he always looked at. He imagined jumping off the wall or going for a swim he'd never return from or maybe just sitting in a secluded section of the seawall until someone found him, regardless of how long it took.

He only imagined, though. He never let himself indulge in why he thought these things or what could have caused their incessant pounding in the back of his head. He didn't want to do any of them, but he thought and imagined and tried not to imagine and tried not to think.

He couldn't describe what it felt like in feelings, he didn't let himself deal with those. He could taste it though. It tasted like a lukewarm dish meant to be hot, or an apple just a bit on the mushy side when bitten into. Underwhelming and uncomfortable, but not unbearable.

When he tried to feel it, he only came up with fragments. It wasn't sadness, no. That was too simple. It wasn't bitterness. Too harsh. Not melancholy or distress or dullness. It felt like a mix of all of those things, yet none of them at the same time. It felt like someone else controlling his body and him only occupying his mind. Depression.

He didn't let anyone know. He maintained his usual scowl and nobody dared ask questions. He set volleyballs and high fived his teammates and changed in and out of his clothes with normalcy. He made sure that they suspected nothing. He stayed up late doing schoolwork because he couldn't focus, even though his room was silent. And when he didn't have work to do, he stayed up late anyway because sleep wasn't merciful enough to allow him to indulge.

He lost interest in most things. Or didn't have interest to begin with, but did them anyway. His precision in volleyball was pinpoint and continued to be pinpoint, but not because he tried. He couldn't do that anymore. He let the force controlling his body take over and let his mind wander elsewhere. Out to sea.

He maintained and sustained. Grades didn't drop, even when his hours of sleep did. He lived in a constant state of fog. Fog around his head, his limbs, his eyes.

Occasionally, though, the fog would clear and the sun would shine through. These were brief and fleeting moments. The touch of an arm or a disarming smile or an exclamation of joy. From him. His own personal sunshine.

Hinata shined like the sun and had the grace to indulge Kageyama. Of course, he wasn't Kageyama's to keep or to hold. But that didn't stop him from thinking and imagining.

The sunshine began to ward off the clouds. When Kageyama would be going home and the fog would start to find a familiar spot in his mind, Hinata would yell a particularly enthusiastic _Good night!!!_ to Kageyama. And the haze would be held at bay for just a moment longer.

It became easier, no, possible, to ward off the clouds. Kageyama had never tried to fight the feelings and thoughts he'd experience, only ever tried to delay them. But, now, with a shred of hope, he clung. He felt the haze returning and would text Hinata about their shared math homework. He'd feel the urge to jerk his handlebars off the road and would immediately call Hinata's face to mind.

This little piece of sunshine had saved him. Kageyama started to revert back to the way he was. _Was there even a me before all this?_ He got his homework done only because he pestered Hinata to do it, too. He got more sleep because dealing with Hinata was exhausting. He set volleyballs with his mind and body and it paid off in dazzling smiles.

Just because he was getting better didn't mean the haze went away, though. There would be certain days that it would return and no amount of Hinata could fully clear it. Those were the days Kageyama returned to the sea. Those were the days he skipped practice and ignored phone calls and texts.

Those were the days he gave up control of his limbs to whatever intangible force pushed him forward. During those rare days, he'd sit on the edge of one particular rock on his secluded piece of wall and take off his shoes. He'd dangle his toes over the treacherous waters below and feel the ceaseless spray of water hit his face. He'd hear his phone buzz, but the buzzing in his head was louder.

Those days were difficult to bear for everyone. He'd come into practice the next day, make a believable excuse for his absence and ignore the looks that didn't buy it. He would especially ignore the worried look his personal ray of sunshine cast his way.

He had to know that Hinata would find him one day. But it still took him by surprise when he sat down beside Kageyama on his rock in the secluded part of the sea wall. Another surprise as Hinata said nothing and took off his shoes and socks as well.

They sat there looking out at the waves lapping gently at the jagged, uncaring rocks. They sat in comfortable silence. They weaved their fingers together without words or looks. They sat.

After a stretch of silence, Hinata asked, "How bad is it?"

Kageyama only shook his head in response.

He felt Hinata's fingers tighten around his.

They sat.

They watched.

"You help." He was almost too quiet to be heard over the ocean's ceaseless movement. But, Hinata heard him. Again, his small hand tightened around Kageyama's.

They knew they couldn't stay, no matter how much they wanted to, which only encouraged them to absorb as much of the moment as possible. After a sufficient amount of time, they got up and went their respective ways. They saw each other the next day, but didn't mention the meeting.

Those meetings became more frequent, though. Whenever Hinata would catch Kageyema's eyes and see nothing in them, he'd nod and it was understood. The two would bike together to Kageyama's spot and sit in silence until Kageyama was in control again.

Neither asked anything of the other, only each other's company. And they got nothing more.

But that, of course, changed. The meetings became more frequent and less about Kageyama's feelings, or lack thereof.

The hand holding was a standard, but it progressed from there. They began laying back on their rock and watching the clouds, Hinata pointing out different shapes and laughing brightly while Kageyama allowed himself small smiles.

Soon enough, Hinata got Kageyama to laugh, too. His personal haze was kept at bay and he became better at fighting it off. But, when he didn't have the strength to fight anymore and would break down into tears at the frustration of it all, Hinata was there to wipe them away with steady hands.

One day, while Hinata watched clouds, Kageyama watched Hinata. When he finally looked over after a particularly hysterical fit of self induced laughter, his breath caught at the look on Kageyama's face. It was occupied by a completely serene and content smile only made more beautiful by the sunlight currently shining on them both.

It was only fit to kiss him.

It was a chaste and innocent kiss; enough to convey what needed to be said but couldn't be put into words. After it, both boys burst out laughing and held tighter onto each other's hands. If their bodies had inched closer who would have noticed?

Kageyama still had bad days, but then again he still had Hinata. And he didn't intend on giving him up.

**Author's Note:**

> So! I hope you enjoyed the read. I enjoyed the write. Let me know in the comments if you are confused bout anything and what you think I should write next!  
> I have a tumblr (wolfenshire.tumblr.com)  
> my always lovely beta has a tumblr (queenanimetrash.tumblr.com)


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